untitled
by Raberba girl
Summary: It's a soul-scarring darkness, wounding more than just the body. Rated for sensitive subject matter.
1. 1

[untitled] {VERSION 2}

A Kingdom Hearts fanfic by Raberba girl

Summary: It's a soul-scarring darkness, wounding more than just the body. **WARNING for sensitive subject matter, including references to off-screen rape.**

A/N: Isa & Lea are eighteen here.

**I'm still on hiatus.**

xXxXx

I had sensed from the moment I stepped into the room that something was not right. Yet my lack of feelings made it impossible for me to pinpoint what it was, and in the end, I stayed close to Lea and put it out of my mind.

"You have been chosen."

Me? Not Lea?

The two of us shared a look that would have been filled with surprise if we were still human.

"Whaaaattt, I didn't pass?" Lea whined.

"You sound _so_ disappointed," Xigbar laughed. "As if you even care."

"It's not fair that Saïx passed and I didn't," Lea pretended to pout. "We both did the same work."

"Yet you have been deemed unfit at the present time," Xemnas said with heavy finality. Even Lea ceased arguing at the sound of that tone. "You are dismissed, Number VIII."

Lea and I shared a last look. Then he left.

The air seemed thicker, more oppressive, almost as soon as his dark corridor vanished. It added to the sense of wrongness, as if clarifying that the heavy atmosphere had been here all along, held at bay only by Lea's bright presence.

No matter. I looked at our leader and waited patiently.

Xemnas studied me for a long while in silence, as Xigbar looked back and forth between us. Finally, I was instructed to remove my coat, which I did. I was not sure where to put it until Xigbar offered an arm. I handed him the coat, frowning when he unexpectedly tossed it on the floor as if it had no value. Gooseflesh rose on my bare arms as if I was cold, though the actual temperature seemed unremarkable to me.

Xemnas approached. I intended to hold my ground, but found myself forced back until I was close to the wall. Before I could wonder what he meant by this, he had taken firm hold of my jaw and lifted my face up.

"Lord Xemnas?" I questioned.

He spoke to Xigbar, not to me. "Hold his arms."

"What?" What did they intend to do to me that would require restraint? "Wait," I protested as Xigbar slipped behind me and gripped my arms tightly. "There's no need for that." I had volunteered for this - whatever this was. I thought they had known that I meant to be cooperative in this mysterious initiation.

Xigbar snorted mockingly, and Xemnas gave no sign that he had even heard. He lifted his other hand, and one of his blades appeared in it, short enough for close-range combat.

"Wait- Wait." Was this panic I felt? No...I remembered what panic was supposed to be like, and this was nothing close to it. But I felt..._something_. I was not completely impassive in this moment, when I was so vulnerable and appeared to be in such danger. "Lord Xemnas-"

Ignoring me, he brought the blade close to my face until its power seemed to singe me, except he didn't stop, and almost before I knew it, he was cutting into flesh.

I cried out. Then I was silent in shock, at the realization that he was destroying my face, that he was killing me, that...I didn't..._why_?

I screamed again when I was finally able to process the pain; not quite burning, but most like...nothing. It was the horror that hurt the worst, and which was now tearing a succession of cries from my throat. The sense of utter loss, that I was being erased- I thought I'd been erased _already_. Wiped clean, emptied when I'd lost my heart. I'd been wrong - there _was_ more of me left, the muscle and skin and bone that clothed me and moved to my will, and now he was taking that, too, as if he was slicing away my very soul; the pain was also unbearably physical, both burning and absolute cold on the edges of the nothingness, and now I was screaming without restraint.

_'Stop it.'_ I forced myself to choke the screams back. He paused, and for one wild moment I thought he was done, but then he set the blade to my flesh again. _'Shut up. Shut up,'_ told myself fiercely. It felt as if he was paring away my entire face, but it couldn't be. I could still see - and I could still scream. _'SHUT UP.'_

He was marking me. Burning some sort of brand into me, and this was what I'd agreed to and I had resolved to submit to this calmly, and I was weak for so immediately and thoughtlessly trying to draw back just because it wasn't what I'd expected. _'Keep QUIET. Where is your dignity?'_ This was not the time or place for rebellion. That had always been reserved for what I did when partnered with Lea. This, this giving away of myself in order to keep safe what was most important, this I had made up my mind to do alone, and I _would_.

I managed to keep quiet and still in those last few moments, even though I felt like a lamb under the butcher's knife. _I had agreed to this_. Surely he wasn't going to kill me, if he needed me so badly. Surely not.

The blade vanished, and I couldn't help sagging back against Xigbar, trembling with residual horror and pain and betrayal. Ever since becoming a Nobody, I had never felt so strongly that I still had a heart as I did now. Surely no one who had lost their heart could feel this way.

I was released, briefly, to cradle my face, which still hurt quite badly, and I both longed for a mirror and was frightened at the thought of what I would see there. What exactly had he done to me? What would Lea say when he saw me?

They weren't finished.

xXxXxXx

_Something finally became strong enough to rival the pain and humiliation. The sensation of thick darkness, around me but...inside me, too. Seeping into my chest, congealing where my heart should be. "I can't breathe," I gasped. "I can't-"_

_I did try to draw in air slowly and deeply, but it wasn't really air I needed. It was _inside_. Inside. Like when I had lost my heart, but many times worse. Blackness filling me like ooze, seeming to spill out of my mouth. Rage at what was being done to me, pain, deep betrayal, deeper shame, grief at all I had lost and what I was losing now, misery, even apathy... All at the same time, so that I became paralyzed with it. I felt like the most filthy creature in existence, as if anyone who touched me would be forever sullied. My eyes burned so that I could barely keep them open._

_"They're changing color," Xigbar said._

xXxXxXx

I emerged from nightmares to find myself vomiting over the edge of the bed. When I was able to stop, I shakily wiped my mouth on my bare arm and then rested my face back against the sheet. My whole body felt stiff, and even the smallest movements pained me. It took me a long time to realize that I lay in my bed, that this dark and deathly quiet room was my own chamber.

After a very long time, I set about the task of sitting up. So much of me hurt...my face, my eyes, even my ears...all the rest of me. The world still looked gold, as if I had been robbed of all other colors in addition to everything else.

For another length of time I sat there, naked and scarred, wishing I was dead. The darkness still gripped me close, but had faded to an ache of apathy and misery and very, very distant anger. I would kill those two. Someday. When I stopped feeling like I wanted to lie down in a grave and die myself.

_'Filthy.'_ It was a chore to rise to my feet, to open a corridor, to walk the number of steps it took to emerge behind a shower curtain in the bathroom. Such ordinary surroundings... It made me pause. Not in anything strong enough to call a feeling, but it was...strange. Transitioning from that hellish nightmare to this. As if nothing was wrong. As if nothing had happened.

I heard the jarringly mundane sounds of the others getting ready for work: Demyx singing loud enough for lyrics to be distinguished over the roar of the hair dryer, someone showering in another stall, toilets flushing, the sounds of teeth being brushed audible again when Demyx turned the dryer off.

"Oi." Lea's voice, making me raise my head, inducing a clutching sensation where my heart should be. "Anyone seen Saïx this morning?" So casual. He had...no idea...

I reached for the shower handle and turned it as far as it would go, so that I wouldn't have to hear any answers. So that I wouldn't have to hear his voice anymore.

I started shampooing my hair automatically. Out of habit. Then, as I was rinsing it, my hands slid to my sides and I just stood there, as if my body was too heavy to move. My filthy, abused, desecrated body. I belonged to Xemnas now, in every sense of the word. He had taken everything from me, everything, even after I had thought there was nothing left to take. Nothing of myself belonged to me anymore, and it didn't matter, because I did not want it anymore.

Too oppressed to do more, I fell slowly to my knees, having no desire to move, feeling once more like a Nobody who had been stripped of all emotion.

I knelt there under the stream of hot water for a long time. Long enough to hear them all finish their preparations and leave, one by one. Off to work. Back to yet another normal day, their same routine, not a single one of them caring, not a single one deserving to live, every single one of them thinking it was just another day for me, too, as if nothing had changed and I was the same Isa who...

...

Not Isa anymore. Whatever the Heartless had left of me, Xemnas killed last night. I am Saïx now, through and through. Isa is dead.

I knelt for hours, long after I could feel the damage to my skin, until I finally realized that I was never going to be clean again, and no amount of bathing could change that. Mechanically, I reached out at last and shut off the water. _'I wonder if they're expecting me to accept a mission today.'_ I would not work today. I would not work ever again. I would do nothing, ever again, and when my body is finally neglected long enough to fail, I will be free.

It took me a long time to drag myself through a dark corridor back to my room. I felt dead inside. I _was_ dead.

Then I saw my bed, that filthy bed that my filthy body had been lying in, and for a minute, enough energy surged through me that I was able to rip off the bedding and fling it aside. I wanted to burn it, but...Lea was the one who-

I pulled fresh sheets out of my closet, shakily, as if they were heavy. It took the last of my strength to spread them over the mattress. I crawled into the nest of bedding, the faint scent of laundry detergent seeming to burn my nose so that I wanted, strangely, to cry, and then I tried in vain to escape into sleep.

xXxXxXx

Apparently I _had_ slept at last. I dreamed that a beast with their faces was killing me, but I struck back in a berserker rage and tore them to pieces. I dreamed that he was raping me again, and this time I submitted without a fight and without interest. I also felt like he was raping a corpse, and I was watching it happen as if I was a ghost watching strangers. I dreamed that Lea raped me. I dreamed that Lea was my mother, and shut me in a closet because I'd misbehaved, and I couldn't breathe in the darkness. I dreamed that I still couldn't breathe, because the darkness was growing in my heart like an evil tree, sending out roots throughout my body, finally bursting out of my fingertips until they circled Lea's neck, and I watched impassively as my best friend was choked to death by the evil growing out of my own flesh, and I couldn't do anything to stop it because it didn't matter because I was already dead-

"_Isa_!"

Oh...it wasn't the Lea in my dream screaming...it was the real one...

"Isa! Wake up!"

"Don't call me that," I heard myself murmur. His fingers on my bare skin hurt, as he tried to drag my head free of the nest.

A sudden surge of energy. Rage. I flung him off. Sat up, glaring. Everything still looked gold. I wanted to pluck out my own eyes, the irritation of those lost colors suddenly felt like it was driving me mad.

Lea stared at me, as if he truly felt the shock he was feigning. "Isa! What did they do to you?!"

I wanted to laugh, and I wanted to hurt him.

"You're...are you really...Isa...?"

"Get out," I said. Even my voice sounded dead.

His eyes narrowed, and he climbed onto the bed. Too close. My weapon was in my hand without a second's thought; I started to swing, wanting to bash his head off.

"What the hell, Isa!"

"_Get away from me_."

He seized my head and stared hard into my eyes. I was frozen, waiting absurdly for him to hurt me. Then I blinked and tried half-heartedly to pull away. He wasn't going to hurt me. He was Lea. He cared about me - about Isa - as much as a Nobody could care. He didn't know, he had no idea what they'd done to me - to Isa. And I didn't want anything to do with Lea anymore. The Isa he'd known was dead. This Saïx meant nothing to him, and I didn't want Lea and Saïx to touch, to even be near each other.

"Isa," he whispered. Then, again, but with a helpless sort of gentleness now, "What did they do to you?"

"They killed me," I said flatly. "I'm dead."

His eyes began to move down my body, taking in the damage. "Isa..."

"_Don't_ look." I dragged the sheets back up to cover my chest. "Get away from me. And don't call me that anymore, _I am __Saïx_."

He was shaking now. I was irritated again, that he would go to such lengths to play-act. Didn't he know how ridiculous it was? But then, it was all still a game to him.

"Isa," he said, as if it was an effort to keep his voice steady, "why are your eyes a different color?"

My eyes?

He must have interpreted my blank look as confusion rather than lack of feeling, because he suddenly rushed off and then stormed back, carrying a hand mirror.

I felt a sudden strong desire to avoid it. I didn't want to see what I looked like now. I didn't want to see what had been done to my face. I tried to retreat, but Lea was ruthless; I tried to fight him, but he was ready for me. Then I finally caught sight of my reflection, and fell still.

As I looked, the maddening gold finally seemed to drain away, left behind only in the reflection's eyes. My eyes refused to change back for some reason, but at last I could once more see blue, red, all the shades I knew from before. And I could see my true reflection.

It was Saïx. Of course the dead remains of Isa were still there, in the structure of the face and the color of the now-wild hair; but...this monstrous being gazing back at me was not me. Those hateful eyes, the wounds carved into the face, even the shape of the ears, just like-

_'They've turned me into-'_ Hatred re-awakened in me. _'They turned me into them. ...That's why.'_ Perhaps they hadn't lied after all. Perhaps they'd told the truth about an 'initiation.' I had simply had no idea in heaven or earth what it truly meant - that they intended to turn me into another Xemnas, and that their method of doing so was something I would never have agreed to had I known beforehand, no matter what was at stake. Lea's ridiculous schemes looked so petty now. Children planning make-believe adventures. We had had no idea what we were up against.

_They_ had no idea what they had been up against. Lea and his dead partner. I was no longer the friend he loved and trusted.

"What happened?" Lea finally asked again, his voice hushed. "You were _fine_ the last time I saw you. Then I couldn't find you this morning, and Demyx said he'd heard someone screaming last night, and I waited until Vexen kicked me out but you never came to get your mission, and I finally get back and you're a wreck and _your eyes_." His voice had been steadily gaining both volume and passion. "Why are your eyes yellow?" he demanded. "Who _did_ this to you? Xemnas? Xigbar? Both? Which one cut your face? I'll _kill_ them!"

"They'll kill you," I said woodenly. "Or else..." I had to swallow, it was suddenly difficult to speak. "Or else...do the same thing to you...that they did to me."

Lea watched me. "...Isa. Was that all they did? Your eyes and your face? And they roughed you up a little, right? Was that everything, or was there more?"

I folded myself back into my nest. "Go away. I'm tired. I don't want to talk to you and I'm sick of you and I hate you."

He seized the sheets by my neck to rip them away, and I gripped his wrists to stop him, my heart beating hard again.

"Isa," he hissed through gritted teeth, "they didn't...rape you or anything, did they?"

I couldn't move, my shock felt real. He waited for an answer, and when I couldn't regain my wits fast enough to respond, he pulled all the sheets away. I waited, trying and failing not to cringe, and to meet his eyes. I didn't care about him anymore, anyway, and I didn't care what he thought about me, because Isa was the one who would have cared, and Isa was dead.

"They...they did...didn't they?"

"No." The lie filled my mouth, unbidden, a relief, soothing the tormented heart I wasn't supposed to have. "I gave myself to him willingly. It's a transfer of power - I am one of the elite now."

He stared at me.

I rose to my feet, still naked but with no more shame, able to look him steadily in the face, feeling the lie as if it was drawing itself about me like a robe. A shield. "There is an unimaginable power, Axel, something incredible that we had no inkling of. In this Organization, ordinary powers, like your fire, pale in comparison to what the two highest members have access to. When they made their offer...when I accepted...I gained that power, too. I am one of them now."

It steadied me. I felt, just a little, like my old self again, the Isa who had known who he was and what he was doing. I felt distant, stronger. The lingering pain in my body did not seem like such a troublesome thing now. I could almost believe what I was saying, that these new eyes that had been forced upon me were a badge of honor. Saïx had no use for Isa's grief or Isa's uncertainty or Isa's foolishness or Isa's despair. Saïx could move on from this, and be better for it. "I hope you won't bother pretending to be jealous, or start spinning theories about my sexual orientation, or anything of the sort. It had nothing to do with love - we Nobodies cannot love, as you know. This was simply, as I said, a transfer of power, it has nothing whatsoever to do with emotion."

He bit back, something about how I had taken the plan to ingratiate myself with our superiors far too literally.

"Your plans," I said, "are rather childish, and I've tired of them. I'm moving on, Axel, and I suggest that you do as well."

"My name is LEA!" he shouted, then stormed off.

I collapsed back onto the bed and tried again, fruitlessly, to drown myself in sleep.

xXxXxXx

It was morning when I awakened. I lay staring at the ceiling for a long time, wondering if I should continue sulking, or get on with life. Dead like this, my 'emotions' were not strong enough to crush me; in fact, I didn't feel them much at all. I was also not physically ill enough for another missed day of work to be tolerated.

I got out of bed. I drank an Elixir, not caring anymore - at least, not very much - when my filthy hand touched the pristine bottle.

Every wound vanished, every injury was mended. I looked down at my restored body, then decided that it didn't matter. Though the bruises and tears were gone from my flesh, I could feel each of them still etched onto my soul.

I used a different bathroom to ready myself, one that was far away from our rooms and therefore seldom used. It was soon clear that the X-shaped scars, though no longer painful, still marred my face, that my eyes were still gold, my ears still inhuman. It didn't matter.

I had a strong reluctance to face the other men. Yet I would have to face them sooner or later, so when I had no more preparations left, I forced myself to the kitchen, where Luxord was washing out a teapot and Demyx, looking half-asleep, was sluggishly pouring milk into what seemed to be muffin batter. So very mundane. They had no idea. No one did. Except the two who had done it and the one who had not stopped it. Had they told anyone?

"Good morning, Saïx," Luxord said politely.

"'Sup, Luna," Demyx mumbled with a sleepy wave. "Oops..." He looked at the milk he had spilled, shrugged, then reached for the egg carton without bothering to wipe up his mess.

Ordinarily, I might have spoken up about this, but now I simply felt subdued. "Good morning," I murmured. Unthreatening as they were, I did not like the idea of having either of them out of sight behind me. That ruled out the refrigerator, so I finally started looking through the cabinets above the same counter where Demyx was working. Just the sight of the colorful cereal boxes there made me feel suddenly nauseous... I finally pulled down the only brand with no sugar.

The other two were watching me now, frowning. "You okay, Lu?" Demyx asked.

"Yes," I said shortly, pouring Cheerios into a bowl. Then, as too much of an afterthought, "Don't call me that."

"You don't look - er, quite yourself," Luxord said.

"I'm fine."

"Did you have to abort a mission?" Demyx asked eagerly. "Is that why you weren't around yesterday?"

"Demyx, stop talking," I growled, suddenly full of irritation I shouldn't be feeling.

"Are you out of recovery items?" Luxord asked in puzzlement, staring at my face. It took me a moment to remember that it was now badly scarred. "I'll spare you some, if you'll wager with me first. I'll go easy on you," he promised. "I've just been craving a game, and no one has been willing to play with me of late."

"Pfft, yeah, because you _always_ win," Demyx laughed. "Cheater."

"I am an honest player," Luxord said, looking affronted. "I simply have a naturally high level of luck. I'm not unbeatable, though."

"Whaddaya say, Sai?" Demyx coaxed. "Gonna take him on, or are ya too chicken?"

"I'm in a bad mood," I said bluntly, dipping my spoon into cereal to which I had not added milk. "I don't want to talk."

"Awwww, is Lulu sad?" Demyx cooed. "Is Lucy Lu all in a huff because the big mean-?"

My fist hurt, and I quickly realized that it was because I was punching someone with it, and the screams were Demyx's, not Isa's. Other people were shouting, too, distantly, in the background; my hearing seemed to be off, the world was a haze of gold, then someone - more than one - seized me and were dragging me away, no, pushing me down, hurting me, hurting me again I can't _stand_ it I'll kill myself this time if you won't, screaming until my throat goes raw _Lea why won't you save me_-

The haze cleared. It wasn't happening again - that seemed to be only in my mind, as if memory had suddenly gripped my thoughts so that I lost myself in it; Xemnas and Xigbar weren't even present. It was Lexaeus and Luxord holding me, Lexaeus without a trace of expression, Luxord looking slightly incredulous.

Vexen was demanding to know what in the worlds was wrong with me. Zexion was, with a mixture of gentleness and confusion, tending to Demyx, who was crying tearlessly and babbling in an increasingly childish and affected tone, "...I don't _know_, he just _jumped_ at me like some crazy rabid werewolf, he's always picking on me even though I never do anything to him, I think he hates me because I'm so much smarter and more handsome than him-"

"Demyx, you're fine," Zexion said briskly, clapping him on the back to shut him up and then looking over at me expectantly.

"It's nothing," I muttered, hating the surliness of my own voice. I sounded like a teenager. I _was_ still technically a teenager, but I sounded like one of the common ones still trapped in school, on course for a dull, pointless life. I didn't sound like the warrior I was supposed to be. "Let _go_." They weren't unduly crowding me, but their touch was still making my skin crawl.

"Don't let 'em turn him loose, Zexy, or he'll jump me again!" Demyx whined, clinging to Zexion and looking as if he was enjoying himself.

"Get off me," Zexion said, feigning annoyance so well that it almost could have been genuine.

The hands gripping me did not shift. I pressed my feet hard against the floor to stop myself from shivering.

"What exactly did you think you were doing?" Vexen demanded of me.

I forced myself to keep my voice calm, even bored. "I simply had a...trying day yesterday, and am still short-tempered. Just keep him away from me, and we'll be fine."

"Short-tempered?" Luxord repeated, one elegant eyebrow raised skeptically. I wanted to hit him.

"You can't be in a bad mood, you have no emotions," Vexen said dismissively. "I'm considering-"

"What is happening here?"

My whole body seemed to go cold, and I felt as if the flesh was creeping up and down my entire spine. I wished I could turn, but they were still holding me, forcing me to keep my back to that hated voice. The others were able to turn their heads to look at our master, though Zexion did immediately glance back at me, frowning. "You've gone pale," he murmured, so softly that I don't think anyone else heard him.

"Superior!" Demyx burst out gleefully, "Saïx attacked me, just jumped at me and started punching me, look, I think my black eyes are coming in-"

"Silence."

Demyx abruptly went quiet. My captors finally released me, and I turned to face the man who had destroyed me.

He looked the same as always, his eyes fixed on me, but no more amicable or ominous than usual. I was almost certain that I was imagining the evil aura shimmering around him. "Saïx," he said quietly.

I hadn't realized that my voice _could_ come out so steady at this moment, but it did. I sounded perfectly composed as I said, "Yes, sir?"

He studied me a moment longer. "You look well," he finally said.

My hands curled into fists. I wanted to place them around his neck and choke the life out of him. "Thank you, sir," I said automatically, like a trained parrot.

"He looks 'well'?" Luxord exclaimed. "His face has been injured."

Zexion said nothing, but seemed slightly agitated.

"You will complete your assigned mission today, as usual," Xemnas said to me. Although nothing in his tone indicated it, I could somehow tell that it was a question. A question with only one answer, but a question nonetheless.

"Of course, sir," I said smoothly. _'I'm going to kill you.'_

"Very well." He turned regally and left again.

Everyone exchanged looks. "Well, that was odd," Luxord finally muttered.

"You stay away from me," Demyx ordered me pompously, then drank a Hi-Potion and went back to baking muffins.

"Are you all right?" Lexaeus rumbled, in a slightly threatening way as if he really meant, _"Are you going to lose control again?"_

"I'm quite well, thank you," I said, still not sure how I was able to speak so strongly. "I apologize for inconveniencing you."

Lexaeus turned without a word and went back to the dining room.

Zexion moved close to me and started to murmur, even as I moved back away, "Really, Saïx, are you all right?"

"I'm _fine_," I said shortly, "and the next person who asks is going to get a claymore to the face." I escaped to the Grey Area.

Perhaps I'd half-hoped to see Axel, but Xigbar was lounging there instead. I froze when I saw him.

"Mornin', Sai," he called merrily.

"You," I whispered. My mouth felt dry.

"How ya feelin'?"

_'Like running you through a stake and putting your writhing, naked body on display outside my window so I can watch you die slowly.'_

"Way crappier than I did, I bet."

I don't know what I meant to say. Something to crush him. Something to set the stage for future revenge. What came out of my mouth was, "Where's Axel?"

Xigbar didn't answer right away. Just lounged there with that infuriating grin playing over his mouth that first made me want to hurt him some more, then began to frighten me. "Good friends, you two."

Now I was certainly frightened.

"Real loyal, that Lea kid. Always sticking up for his BFF Isa, won't stand to hear a bad word about him or see him get hurt."

"Just tell me," I snapped.

"He tried to kill us last night," Xigbar sing-songed. "_As if_ a little punk like him could take on the Org's top dogs."

Somewhere in the midst of the dark tangle that had taken root in my empty heart, I felt a frantic fluttering. "What did you do to him?"

"Now, why should I tell you?"

"You owe me," I said. "After what you did to me, what you let him do to me, _you owe me_. A thousand times more than the answer to this very simple question." If Axel was dead and I was too late, Xigbar would be gloating about it, wouldn't he? Just to torment me? _'The fact that he's tormenting me by withholding information just means that there's still hope, right...?'_

"I owe you nothing, dearest Isa-"

"_Don't call me that_," I snarled.

"-and even if I did, do you honestly think I care?"

I turned and left.

When my appeals to Xemnas were fruitless, I reappeared in a cold hallway and leaned against the wall, feeling empty. I was a failure in every respect, every last one. _'Axel...'_ He hadn't even been there for me when I'd needed him most. _He_ was the one who'd failed _me_, yet here I was feeling like the most worthless, filthiest thing in existence, except I didn't even exist because I was a being that was never meant to, and because the pitiful remnants of that non-existence had been still further erased, I should be gone, _nothing_, yet here I was still, practically alight with desperation, all for the sake of that cocky, hot-headed, impulsive, infuriating _wretch_ of a best friend...

There were others in the Grey Area by now. I looked at them only for a moment, then went straight to Xigbar and said, "I need to speak with you in private."

He grinned at me. "Why?"

_'Enough. I have no pride left. Just grovel, if necessary.'_ "I'm begging you, Xigbar. Lord Xemnas won't tell me. You're the only one. I'll do anything."

"Hmm." He stood and wrapped an arm around me. "Anything?" he whispered playfully in my ear.

I didn't flinch, even though I knew exactly what he meant. "Yes." It was just more of the same thing. Giving up more of myself, dying a little more, to protect what was truly important. I just hadn't realized before how very much of myself I would be sacrificing, and what exactly it was that was truly important to me.

Then Xigbar laughed and released me. "All right. Do all my missions for a week, top scores, and I'll tell you where your precious Lea is."

What? "That's...your price? Your whole price?"

"Unless you _want_ me to ask for something else," he cooed teasingly.

"No," I snapped. "Your missions for a week, consider them done. Now _tell me_."

I glanced out at the others, none of whom were Demyx, thankfully, then back at Xigbar.

He smiled. "Well. You know your missions that've started piling up?"

_'It doesn't matter that they're still holding you to yesterday's work,'_ I told myself. _'It doesn't matter. Keep calm and listen.'_

"I'd do the most useless-looking mission first. If I were you."

That was all I was going to get from him. It would have to be enough.

Without thanking him, I went immediately to Vexen and demanded my mission briefs. He handed me both the newest one and the one I had not attempted yesterday.

I wasted time scrutinizing the two missions, trying to figure out which one would be more 'useless' by Xigbar's standards, then finally realized what he had been hinting at: the optional mission from last week that I hadn't had a chance to finish yet. I headed for Atlantica without even bothering to re-arrange my panels.

It was recon. Long, tiresome. I didn't even know what I was looking for, since I'd come here for Axel, not for whatever pointless objective the mission called for. Still, I had nothing else to go on, so I trudged from one clue to another, scribbled down half-hearted notes, investigated fewer nooks and crannies than usual.

He was tied to the wall of an underwater cave, with sparkling Elixir being fed steadily into his veins. At first, I could not understand why he jerked and writhed as if being tortured, then I realized with a flash of genuine horror that he was still in human form. Constantly drowning, being healed, drowning, unable to die, wild eyes meeting mine, _save me, save me, save me_, or perhaps it was _kill me, kill me, kill me_, he hadn't done either for me when I had so needed him to, but even as I was thinking that, I was cutting through the bonds, fighting past his thrashing limbs to breathe into his mouth, seizing his arms and beating my powerful merman's tail against the water to propel us out of the cave and send us shooting to the surface.

On shore, my tail dried back into legs. I held him until the violence of his coughing subsided enough for me to get a properly bottled Elixir to his lips, tipped gently into his mouth until he was finally able to grasp the bottle and swallow the rest on his own. Then, his body fully healed and no longer traumatized, he simply lay there on the beach for his soul to recover as well. I sat beside him, waiting. Neither of us had spoken at all.

"I lied to you earlier," I finally said, staring out at the waves. "Xigbar helped hold me down. Xemnas marked me, then..."

"Killing them both," Axel muttered. "Tie 'em both in a cave to drown forever, 'cept I still can't figure out how he froze me human..."

"The three of us are connected now," I said slowly. "Copies of each other. I realized it so quickly, as soon as I saw my reflection. Could I sense their thoughts, somehow? At a subconscious level?"

"Let's analyze it to pieces," Axel said dully. "Tortured me, raped my best friend; are we leaving them to rot after ripping off some body parts? No, we're writing up lab reports, because my best friend is the nerdiest geeky four-eyes who ever lived, except _tell_ me you're Isa writing up this frickin' lab report and not Xemnas in your body, except I guess it's Isa who would have saved me, not Lord Needs To Die Slowly, so I guess we're good now, huh." He crossed his arms and laid his head on them wearily.

"Ax- Lea."

He shifted his head to glance at me.

"I'm sorry I lied to you." I realized afterward that I was really trying to say, _I forgive you_.

"And I'm sorry I fail at life." Sarcasm. No matter. Though I wondered why his eyes shone oddly, as if with tears.

"I wouldn't have let them do that to me if I'd known. Xigbar was the one who gave himself willingly, back when he was chosen. ...So he says. I didn't have a choice." Then I lost my strength and lay down with my face to the sand. "I did have a choice," I whispered. "I accepted that mission, I worked so hard, I agreed... I was a fool to reach for something I didn't understand-"

"No," Axel hissed. "_We_ accepted that mission. _We_ worked for it... Isa, _I'm_ the one who wanted you to...I'm the one who told you to... Why couldn't I have been better than you?!" he suddenly screamed. "It was _my_ plan, _I'm_ the one who should've been chosen-"

"You can't conform or bootlick to save your life," I said softly. "We always knew I would be the one. I'm the one who should have known better."

"My plan sucked," Axel sobbed, "_I_ suck," and I couldn't think of what else to say as I held his hand and listened to him weep.

xXxXx

Author's Notes: **I'm still on hiatus**, it's just that I've been writing like crazy, and I don't like to leave finished stories lying around when they're ready to post. There are a ton of completed drafts in my notebooks that I've been slow at typing. As for this story, the first draft was written on the computer, on Thursday evening, in one sitting, after the idea had been stewing in my mind off and on for about a year. After work on Friday, I added an extra scene to the end (though I took it out again before posting). Today, I edited the fic - edited _for real_, which I haven't done to a story in ages - and made a censored/revised version to actually post.

So, yeah...I couldn't get the idea out of my head, and finally just wrote an 8,886-word rape fic. **Then, after much debate, I decided that there were **_**many**_** reasons why it would be a bad idea to post the full version, and I ended up revising it into a 6,440-word alternate version.** I cut out most of the rape scene, since I don't think I could bring myself to make that public even if there weren't other issues involved, which there are; I also edited out almost all the strong language, and either cut or altered some dialogue exchanges. I also cut out the healing scene at the end, not so much for its spirituality but because of an unrelated concern I had. So...what's left is a censored version that doesn't make as much sense and loses some impact and doesn't flow as well in some parts and has a depressing ending. :/

Ever since I found out what Xehanort had done to Isa, I've had this mental image that it was like a rape. What else do you call it when someone forces his way into your body in a traumatic way that deeply scars your soul? I could not dismiss the image, so I finally just wrote it as a story, and was amazed at how well it fit, how many parallels there were. If Kingdom Hearts was not a Disney game, it seems very likely that the rape would have been literal; even as it is, it still _is_ rape on a metaphorical level. I want more than ever to see Isa freed.

I have so very, very many qualms about sharing this story...ranging from, yet again, having no idea what I'm talking about; to my anticipation of negative feedback from ANY KIND OF READER EVER; to fear of FFN's uptight rulership; to...just, there's a lot of reasons why the thought of posting this story makes me squirm, even though I kind of want to post it anyway.

**Xemnas.** I've never seen Xemnas as having the _least_ interest in romance or sexual pleasure. If he's a rapist, he'd be a businesslike one, seeing it only as a means to an end. It seems OOC to me whenever I see fics or art where Saïx, for whatever reason, sexually submits to a lustful Xemnas. That just isn't _Xemnas_. And that awful portrayal in fandom is YET ANOTHER reason for me to hate XemSai, even though XemSai is simultaneously one of several KH pairings and concepts that automatically bring up the impression of rape in my mind.

**I originally left this fic on a low note, but then it didn't feel right to me. I always hated those stories I had to read for school, especially one particular monstrosity by Toni Morrison, which showed the darkest side of human nature and then just **_**ended**_**, with no healing or redemption. They were so depressing and pointless. I also get annoyed by stories that make it seem as if romance and consensual sex are the trick to healing soul scars. That kind of thing can only go so far, it can't bring true healing. So I didn't feel like it was right to write my own dark story and then just leave it with the characters being broken. I went back and wrote more, but then ended up cutting it out anyway. -.-**

Any wrongdoing or trauma leaves a wound on a person's soul, from 'trivial' things like name-calling, to serious things like losing a fight or being involved in a car accident, to horrific things like losing a child; and the news seems to always be filled with far worse, abuse and terrorism and torture and war. Whether you sin, or are a victim of sin or accident, it leaves a scar. The worst scars are often from childhood. Sometimes, wounds are passed down through generations, so that guiltless children are affected by the consequences of what their parents or grandparents did. Even seemingly trivial things can have a disproportionately deep, toxic impact, but it doesn't matter, the pain is no less real or significant. Scars on the soul can leave a mark that seems to call for similar incidents to keep happening; they can open doors that were meant to stay closed, leaving you too vulnerable; they can bind you to unhealthy and self-destructive behaviors; they can be passed down to your own children if not dealt with; they can arrest emotional growth so that even a full-grown adult might react to certain situations or triggers the way a child would, however young they were when they were originally hurt. Trying to distance and numb the wounds without seeking true healing just makes it worse in the long run.

The God of the Bible is a healer with no limit. Christians who've accepted Christ's authority and his work on the cross then gain access to that immeasurable gift. Christ died and was resurrected in order to free us from the effects of our sin, and to take upon himself all the sickness and suffering that we would have otherwise experienced. It is Christ's blood that redeems, the light of his Holy Spirit that heals, and which is the only thing that can heal fully and truly. For those who've given their lives to God, the only thing that stands in the way is our own pride or lack of faith, our unwillingness to forgive those who wronged us or to trust in God's love for us. Sometimes it seems impossible to forgive; sometimes it seems like there's nothing else to do than say the words over and over again, as many times as it takes every time the dark thoughts come up, praying to bless the ones who hurt you, until the forgiveness finally feels real. (And note that forgiving someone does not mean being a doormat to knowingly let yourself be taken advantage of. It's a matter of trusting and loving God, letting go of the need to avenge oneself [justice and revenge are not synonyms], and following God's direction.) People often get fixated on the traumatic incident, or the people who bother or hurt them, or on the disease or the emotional symptoms, but those are only distractions. Focusing on the trauma is not the answer; human beings are never the true enemy; and often, sicknesses are signs of spiritual wounds that have festered unseen long enough to finally manifest as physical or mental illness.

I know that not everyone believes this, but I continue to see more and more personal, firsthand evidence of it. I'm not saying this to invite opposition or start arguments, I'm saying it because I see such terrible things being said and done all the time, and I know the answer but I also know it can't be forced, so I'm offering it in the only way I know how.


	2. 2

[untitled] 2 {VERSION 2}

(rough draft)

A Kingdom Hearts fanfic by Raberba girl

Summary: Young Lea & Isa get in trouble. **Warning for potentially sensitive subject matter? IDK.**

A/N: **Absolutely no relation at all to "untitled 1;"** I'm just shoving this story here because I guess this is now my official Fics I Feel Horrible About Writing And Therefore Don't Want Anyone To Read series or something. -.-

Lea & Isa are the only canon characters in this fic (well, plus a cameo you'll recognize); the rest are throwaway OCs. Although Isa's parents and Lea's sister are the same ones as in my other fics, **LEA'S PARENTS ARE NOT. They are throwaways who show up **_**only**_** in this fic.**

I don't think I've ever written about properly-administered discipline (except a little bit in this one, but then it got messed up again)...this particular fic has two different extremes that could be argued are abusive; **I am **_**not**_** advocating either one.**

I'm not sure how old the boys are in this fic...between seven and ten years old, I guess.

**Also, this is more of a journal entry than a story.** (Not a journal about literal events, but a "journal" in the sense that I needed to process some negative feelings through writing.) I explain it in the author's note at the bottom, but basically, this wasn't really written for other people to read, it was written because I was upset about something.

o.o.o

The two boys came ambling down the street late Saturday morning, eagerly discussing their project.

"...so see if you can get that map, and then we'll try again."

"Gotcha. Wanna meet up again after lunch?"

"No, I have homework. I'll call you later; if we can't meet tonight, then tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

They parted ways to return home. Lea entered his house to find his younger sister watching cartoons. "Hi, Kayla."

"_There_ you are!" she exclaimed. For just a second, she looked relieved, but then she grinned. "You're in big trouble."

"Huh?"

There was the sound of a phone clattering back into its cradle, and then their parents came rushing in - one from the kitchen and one from upstairs.

"Lea!"

"_Lea_!" his mother shrieked, rushing to throw her arms around him.

"Hi, Mom."

"Leeeaaa!" Then her relief turned to rage, and she started shaking him.

"Ow, M-Mom," he tried to say as his head bobbed roughly.

"_Where_ - have - you - BEEN?!"

"I-"

Then she stopped shaking him and hit him instead. He stared in shock. "_Where_ have you been?" she shouted, and he finally realized just how _very_ much in trouble he was.

"I...I was with Isa, we were working on-"

"You just _disappeared_! I had no idea what _happened_ to you! I thought you were _kidnapped_, or _dead_-"

"Mom, I'm fine!"

"Well, you _won't_ be!" she roared, seizing him in such a way that he knew exactly what was going to come next.

"Mom, stop!"

"Marena, stop," his father said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You're too upset."

"I'm going to _thrash the living daylights out of him_!"

"Marena..."

Lea could never decide which was worse, getting spanked by a mother too furious to hold back but whose anger always cooled quickly, or by a calm and collected father who didn't stop until he discerned that Lea's attitude had shifted. Maybe it didn't matter, since a sore bottom was the end result in either case...

"Go to your room, Lea."

_'I hate you,'_ Lea thought, stopping himself from saying it aloud, and trudged to obey, no longer having the spirit to openly defy them. In his room, he flung himself facedown on his bed. _'I hate them, I hate them, I hate them... We didn't even do anything wrong.'_ He and Isa were just hanging out like they always did. It was just that they spent the night in the woods instead of a house. _'...It was longer than usual...we forgot to tell anyone, but who cares! Nothing happened! We were just hanging out, we didn't do anything wrong!'_ He kept crying because he _did_ feel guilty but didn't want to admit it. Eventually, he got bored and fell asleep.

He woke up when he heard the door open. His father came in, and Lea tried to scoot away, but all it did was give his father room to sit down on the bed beside him.

"My butt hurts," Lea said resentfully, even though it didn't very much anymore.

His father just looked at him, waiting.

"We didn't do anything wrong! I _always_ hang out with Isa!"

"Lea," his father said quietly, "you never came home from school on Friday. Your mother was worried, especially when she called Isa's house and found out you weren't there, either."

"We were in the woods!"

"I didn't know that until _right this moment_. Your mother still doesn't know."

Lea picked at a loose thread on the coverlet.

"Kayla didn't have anyone to play with yesterday. Your mother didn't know what had happened to you after school. I came home to find that my son was missing, and we called the guards. All night long, and all this morning, we had no idea where you were, and all your mother could think about was that her precious boy could be hurt, but she had no idea where he was and no way to help him or make sure he was safe."

"I didn't need help! We were _fine_!"

"Well, _we_ weren't. You did a cruel thing to us, Lea."

"..."

"All you had to do was stop here first and ask permission."

"You wouldn't have let us go!"

"Maybe, maybe not. Or maybe we would have let you go if one of us came with you."

"That would have messed it up!"

"Is whatever it is so important that it was worth causing your family to suffer?"

"You didn't have to worry about me..."

His father sighed. "I see you haven't learned your lesson."

Lea tensed.

"Then you can stay in here until you do, or for the rest of the weekend, whichever comes first. You're grounded."

"You can't keep me in here forever!"

"No, but I _can_ forbid you from seeing Isa."

Lea stared at him in horror for a minute. _'It's okay...I can still see Isa at school, and I can sneak out sometimes...'_

"If Isa's the reason you're misbehaving, then you obviously don't need to see him anymore. If I have to, I'll call the school and have you transferred to a different classroom."

Lea jumped up. "No! You can't do that!"

"I can. And I will, if I don't see a change of attitude from you soon."

"No! You _can't_!" Full of anger, Lea waited until his father left, then went for the window. As soon as he had reached the ground safely, he took off running.

He'd climbed up to Isa's bedroom window before, so it didn't take him long. He knocked at the pane. "Hey! Isa!"

Isa was a small figure curled up on the bed. At the sound of the noise, he leaped up and stared in shock, which made Lea laugh. But he didn't smile as he hurried over; he looked terrified.

"Isa, open the window!"

"You shouldn't be here! You have to leave," Isa called through the glass.

"_No_! Dad says I can't see you anymore! Let's sneak off somewhere."

"Lea, go _away_!" Looking frantic, Isa drew the curtains as if slamming a door in Lea's face.

Lea stared. "Isa!" He knocked on the window again. "Isa, answer me!" No response. "FINE! I don't want to see you, either!"

He stormed away, then lost some steam and just wandered. He bought some ice cream and ate it. He considered hiding out all day, but he'd _have_ to go back home and face his parents sooner or later, and it seemed kind of cowardly to put it off. He finally sighed and headed home.

He already knew he was in trouble, but he didn't realize exactly how much until he walked through the door and saw his parents' faces. He tried to act like it wasn't a big deal. "'Sup." They were making him nervous, so he turned and headed upstairs toward his room, where he was supposed to be.

He could hear his father coming after him, so he quickened his pace and hurried inside, but couldn't shut the door because his father was already coming through it. Carrying a belt. "Dad- Look, Dad, I was gonna come _back_, you just never let me say goodbye to Isa, and you guys were blaming me for stuff that wasn't my fault, and-"

His father did not bother to interpret his shrieks this time. Then he just left afterward, as if he couldn't stand to be in the same room with his son for a second longer than necessary.

Lea cried for a long time. He hated everyone and everything, including himself. _'I shouldn't have snuck out...it was so stupid anyway, Isa wouldn't even talk to me...it _hurts_...'_ Eventually, he dozed off again, waking with a start when the door opened. He craned fearfully over his shoulder, but it was just his mother, looking warm and loving again. "Dad hates me."

"Ohhh, no, sweetie," she crooned, stooping down to comfort him, "he was just upset..."

"He's never hit me like that before, it hurt _so bad_."

"Let me see, sweetie," she said, and he saw that she'd brought some things from the medicine cabinet with her.

"What? NO!"

It was embarrassing, but it _was_ nice to have her taking care of him and not mad at him anymore, and he didn't hurt as much when she finished. But for some reason, tears were still coming into his eyes anyway. "I'm such a loser. My best friend hates me and my dad hates me and I can't do anything right."

"You are _not_ a loser." She leaned down and kissed him. "Are you hungry?"

"I'm _starving_."

"I'll bring you something to eat."

Around bedtime, Kayla came in her pajamas to say good night to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..."

"You were yelling really loud."

"Not _that_ loud."

"Did Daddy spank you real hard?"

"Nah. It didn't hurt much, I just screamed so he'd think I was learning my lesson."

"Oh." She poked at his butt, making him yelp. She stared at him.

He was having to hold tears back again. "...I was really bad."

"Mommy and Daddy were really worried about you," she said softly. "Mommy kept crying."

"I was fine. Nothing happened. ...I'm sorry for not getting to play with you yesterday, Kayla."

"It's okay." She kissed him. "I'm glad you're not dead or kidnapped."

"Yeah."

"Good night."

"Good night."

Then his mom came in to kiss him good night. Then his dad came in, and Lea scrambled to his feet and held his chin high, eyes fixed on the buttons of his shirt because he couldn't bring himself to look at his face.

"...Lea."

"What?" Lea said sullenly.

"Son, I apologize for losing my temper. It was wrong of me to punish you when I was angry."

"It didn't even hurt, anyway," Lea snapped. "You can spank me again, I don't care, it didn't even hurt." For a second, he was terrified that he would be taken at his word, but his father, looking a little sad, simply said, "Good night, Lea," and left. Lea flung himself back on the bed and cried some more.

o.o.o.o.o

When Isa had returned home that morning, he opened the door and could immediately see into the kitchen, where his father was saying angry things to someone on the phone, and his mother was slumped at the table, looking devastated.

"Mother?"

Her head jerked up. There was a silent pause, as they all stared at each other. Then his mother cried out joyfully and ran toward him, and Isa moved to meet her.

Before they could reach each other, his father slammed down the phone and thundered, "Don't TOUCH him."

Both of them froze. Isa realized, with a thrill of dread, that he was in deep trouble.

"Sit down, Marian," her husband ordered, and she sank into an easy chair in the living room, looking apprehensive.

"_Look_ at me," his father commanded. Isa, who had been staring at his mother, unaware of the beseeching expression on his face that was breaking her heart, snapped back to face his father. "EXPLAIN YOURSELF."

Isa was too frightened to speak. He couldn't even sort out his scrambled thoughts enough to _think_ of what to say.

After a long moment of silence, his father suddenly struck him across the face.

"Takahiro!" Isa's mother cried, "_Please_..."

Isa, shaking a little, had a hand pressed to his reddened cheek, crushed more by shame and remorse than by the pain. He had not meant for this to happen. He had barely even thought at all about his parents' reaction.

"This _person_ has fifteen seconds to explain himself before I lose my patience."

Isa raised his head and struggled to speak, to say _anything_. "I- I went, I went with- With my friend; we...we-"

"_Look me in the face_ while you are speaking to me."

It was almost physically painful to do so, but Isa did not dare disobey. "I- I- Forgive me, sir. Please forgive me."

"_Why did you not tell us where you were yesterday?_ You simply _vanished_ on your way home from school. Your mother was worried _sick_."

"I'm so sorry-"

"Don't apologize to ME! Kneel to your mother and apologize to _her_!"

Isa was already obeying even as his father continued to rage, "Get on your hands and knees and beg for her forgiveness, though God knows she doesn't owe it to you! Selfish, thoughtless, irresponsible, worthless boy...!"

"I'm sorry," Isa gasped out, tears starting to slip down his face. "I'm sorry, please forgive me, I was wrong, I'm so sorry, Mother..."

"Yes, darling, yes, I forgive you," she said in distress, kneeling beside him and setting a hand on his head as if to shield him.

"Enough, Marian. He doesn't deserve your compassion. Get up, boy. To your room."

Isa stumbled to his feet and dragged himself up the stairs, hearing his parents follow him. He went into his room and then turned to face them.

"You are confined to your room for the rest of the weekend. Do you have uncompleted homework?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Finish it, after you have reflected on why you are being punished. You will write a detailed, thoughtful explanation of how you failed and what you _should_ have done, if you had any intelligence or any concern for this family. Since you did not deign to grace us with your presence for breakfast, I assume you are not hungry, and therefore you will not eat until tomorrow morning."

"But, dear," his wife protested, "not even supper-?"

"HE WILL NOT EAT. And _you_."

"Yes, sir?" Isa said despairingly.

"Do not even think about passing the time with any entertainment. Bring all those things here by the door."

Isa obeyed. His father looked over the collection of toys and books, memorizing the placement of each item. "If you _touch_ anything, I will know."

"Yes, sir," Isa said, taking a step back.

"I'm sick of having to look at your face." He slammed the door shut.

For a little while, Isa just stood there, trembling. Then, woodenly, he went over to his desk and tried to do schoolwork as he had been told, but he couldn't concentrate, and finally laid down his head on his folded arms and cried. He wanted to curl up on his bed and escape into sleep, but he was afraid of being discovered before he had finished his work, so he sat up again and tried to force himself through it. _'I can always come back later and fix the mistakes.'_

After he'd finished and had been resting for a little while, he heard something at the window. He was astonished to find that it was Lea. Joy flared up in his heart at the sight of his best friend's face, but dismay and fear were right on its heels. His father would kill him if he knew he was talking to Lea when he was grounded. "You shouldn't be here! You have to leave."

Of course Lea didn't care. Lea was so brave and rebellious, Isa could never be like him.

"Lea, go _away_!" _'Go away now so that I won't lose you forever.'_ But of course Lea wouldn't listen, so Isa drew the curtains and ran back to bed. He strained to listen until he heard Lea give up and leave, and then he cried again. Now Lea hated him, too. He was completely alone.

Late in the afternoon, his father took him out to the castle barracks, where many of the city guards lived. His father got up in front of a whole crowd of them. "My name is Takahiro Tsukino. I am the father of Isa Tsukino. I wish to apologize for the trouble my son has caused you, for the time you wasted unnecessarily in searching for him when he was merely playing a childish game. We stole away that time, which could have been spent tending to truly important matters. I regret my son's actions deeply, and humbly beg your forgiveness." He gave a formal bow, and there was an interested rustling and muttering from the crowd.

Isa, feeling sick, knew what was expected of him. His father had not even finished prompting him before Isa stepped up beside him and tried to speak through his dry mouth. "I-I am Isa Tsukino. I regret my thoughtless actions, which have wasted your time and effort, and shamed my family. I offer my deepest apologies, and humbly beg your forgiveness." He, too, bowed.

"Forget it, kid, we'll neeeever ever forgive you," someone in the crowd laughed, and Isa went cold.

"Shut up, Braig," someone else said. "Yeah, kid, whatever; just doing our job." Several guards were calling out now, mostly mild insults, bored dismissal, and a few who assured him, "Don't worry about it," or cautioned, "Just let someone know where you are next time." Isa felt better when he saw how unconcerned most of them seemed to be, but wilted again at the realization that his father was no less angry than before.

"_Never_ make me humiliate myself like that again," he ordered when they returned home, and shut Isa back into his room.

Late that night, Isa was startled to be awakened by another person's presence in the room. It was his mother, turning on the little lamp, setting something down on the bedside table, and sitting on the bed beside him. "Mother?"

"Hush, love. I've brought you something to eat."

His stomach growled in response. "But Father-"

"It's not a lot, just something to tide you over. Don't tell him unless he asks, and if he asks, say I forced you."

"But..."

"Sshh." She made sure he ate, then drew her legs up onto the bed and shifted him into her lap, cuddling him as if he was a younger child than he actually was.

"Mother," he murmured, both embarrassed and comforted.

"I can't sing to you or tell you a story tonight, but I'll stay with you a little while."

"I'm sorry, Mother," he whispered. "I just never thought to tell you... We didn't plan to stay out all night, but we were working and it got so late and we were too tired to come home, and Lea said it was like camping, and it...it was fun... But I shouldn't have, I should have come home, I didn't even _think_ that you didn't know where I was and might be worried..."

"Sshh," she said again, kissing him. "It's all right. You're safe, and that's all that matters. I love you so much, Isa."

"I love you, too, Mother." She laid him back down and stayed with him until he fell asleep.

o.o.o.o.o

Lea woke late and slowly on Sunday morning. After lying there for a long time, he finally dragged himself out of bed and then downstairs.

His family looked up at his approach.

"Lea," his father said, "why are you out of your room?"

Lea sighed heavily. "Dad," he said in a dull voice, "I apologize for being a brat and running away when I was grounded."

"I accept your apology."

"Mom, I'm sorry for disappearing and not telling anyone where I was. I'm sorry for worrying you guys."

"Oooh, sweetie." His mother came over and hugged him.

He let her for a minute, then pulled away and said to his father, "Dad? Am I still grounded?"

His father studied him, then said, "No. I don't want you to go to Isa's house, and he can't come here - but after today, you may play with him as usual."

"...He won't talk to me. I went to his house, but he just said to go away."

"Well, keep in mind that he's probably in trouble, too, and might be upset."

"Yeah..."

o.o.o.o.o

Isa woke and got dressed for church, not sure if he was expected to go or not, but wanting to be ready just in case. Then he wondered if he would be in trouble for venturing out to use the restroom.

His mother soon came to his rescue, escorting him downstairs when he was finished.

"Take your plate to the utility room," his father ordered. "You are still in disgrace."

Isa ate alone, then cautiously brought his plate back into the kitchen, wondering if he would get in trouble for taking a second serving. He was still so _hungry_.

"Would you like some more, dear?"

"He's had enough," her husband said before Isa could answer. "Back to your room."

"Yes, sir." Isa waited, watching the clock, profoundly bored but afraid to do anything, until both his parents finally came to the bedroom door.

"We're leaving now," his father said, glancing at the untouched pile of Isa's recreational items. "Did you finish all your schoolwork yesterday?"

"Yes, sir. And the, the report you asked me to write." Now he had nothing to do all day today, except maybe re-read the book he'd done his literature essay on.

"Then I don't care what you do, as long as you _do not_ leave this room and _do not_ touch these items."

"Yes, sir."

"I will know."

"Yes, sir."

"Takahiro," Isa's mother spoke up, "don't you think he ought to come to church with us?"

Her husband narrowed his eyes at her, and Isa kept very still.

"He doesn't have to sit with his friend today, but he should at least come and hear the sermon. It's good for him, and it doesn't seem right to use religion as punishment."

"...Well, Isa. It seems that your mother wishes you to attend the service with us. What do you say to that?"

"I will do whatever my mother wishes," Isa whispered.

"And if her wishes contradict mine? Which of us will you obey?"

Isa swallowed and knew what he had to say, no matter whether or not it was a lie. "I will obey you, Father."

Father showed no change of expression at this. "...And if I commanded you to take a knife and drive it into your mother's heart?"

Isa gaped at him. His mother looked between him and her husband unhappily.

"I...would...refuse," Isa managed to say.

"Yet you just as well did such a thing when you needlessly caused her such suffering. How dare you pretend to care about her well-being?"

Isa was trembling now, feeling trapped.

"Takahiro," she said softly, "it would please me very much if our son could accompany us this morning. He's already dressed and ready, he won't even slow us down."

Isa felt a surge of gratefulness toward her.

"Get downstairs," Isa's father finally ordered.

o.o.o.o.o

Lea craned his head to look for Isa as they sat in a pew waiting for the service to start, and then he finally spotted him. "There's Isa!"

"Lea," his parents warned.

"We're not at our houses! We're just at church. Can I just go over and say hi to him?"

"...All right. But be back soon, the service is starting in a few minutes."

Lea practically ran down the aisle. "Isa! Hey!"

Isa jerked at the sound of his voice, but kept staring straight ahead and did not otherwise respond.

"Hello, Lea," Isa's mother said warmly.

"Hi. Is Isa still in trouble?"

"Yes," Mr. Tsukino said shortly. "He is not permitted to associate with you. Return to your family."

"But...I just wanna say hi."

"Maybe later, dear," Mrs. Tsukino said with a strained smile.

"Hey! Isa! Hi!"

Isa pulled a hymnal out of the slot on the back of the pew ahead of him and pretended to read it.

"Are you _ignoring_ me?!"

A minute later, the organ music started, and Lea was forced to give up. He shuffled sullenly back to his family. "Isa still hates me. His dad won't let me talk to him."

"You'll just have to be patient, Lea."

Isa wasn't at Sunday school, having been taken back home early by his father. Lea impatiently waited for school the next day, but Isa never arrived. Lea didn't see him until recess, when he came out with another teacher's class. "_Isa_!" Lea ran to meet him. "Isa! What are you doing with them?! I thought you were absent!"

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," Isa muttered.

"What?!"

"Father moved me into a different class..."

"No! NO!"

Lea's father agreed to visit the Tsukinos with him that day after school. They came late, after Mr. Tsukino would be home.

"Takahiro, I came to talk to you about the boys...I assume that Isa has gotten into trouble for their behavior the other day?"

"That is not your concern," Takahiro said stiffly. "I do not want anymore contact between my son and yours."

"Takahiro-"

"Don't think it's just about this past weekend. Ever since Isa met your son, he's gotten wilder, more rebellious, more irresponsible, his grades have dropped-"

"Are you saying that Lea is a bad influence?"

"I am _not_," Lea said hotly, and his father placed a hand on his head in warning.

"I've _always_ had the impression of Isa being very polite and mature for his age, and Lea tells me that he still scores higher than anyone else in their class. His friendship with Lea hasn't changed that - your son is a remarkable boy."

"Regardless, this social tie he's been cultivating is not a productive one, and I think it best to end it now. Good night, Mr. Hayes."

"You can't do that!" Lea shouted.

"Takahiro," his father said. "Will you...at least let them say goodbye?"

"I'm not saying goodbye to my best friend!" Lea yelled, and was ignored.

Takahiro glared at them for a minute, then stood aside, clearing the way to where Isa sat tensely at the kitchen table.

"Isa!" Lea ran to him. "Man, we really screwed up..."

"Yes," Isa murmured, eyes fixed on Lea's face.

"You get in big trouble?"

"Y-Yes."

"Me too. Dad beat the tar outta me. How many times did you get hit?"

"What?" Isa gasped, startled.

"You _said_ you got in trouble. How many?"

"J-Just one."

"Whaaaaat?! That is so not big trouble! Hah, I got beat more than you."

Isa stared at him.

"Oh, hey, I forgot to tell you; I got the map!"

"We...we can't work on that anymore."

"Don't say that! They're not splitting us up! We're best friends, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Lea," Isa whispered.

Now Lea was the one staring.

"That's enough," Takahiro said. "Isa, go to your room."

Isa obeyed silently, not looking at anyone.

"Don't give up, Isa!" Lea yelled after him.

Takahiro started ushering them toward the door. "Good night, and farewell."

That was not the end, however. About a week later, Lea's and Isa's parents had a meeting with their teachers, the school principal, and a counselor. The boys sat in the waiting room, Isa pretending to be unaware of Lea's existence, and Lea doing his best to get some kind of response out of Isa.

"Fine, then if I'm just _non-existent_ to you, I guess you won't laugh if I say that the picture hanging on the wall over your head looks like an elephant sat on a pie; or that if you were a pony, your name would be Moonwolf Crescent- _Oh look there's a super-cute puppy_, HA HA HA made you look, I _know_ you can hear me!"

Meanwhile, in the conference room, Takahiro was looking very displeased. "As I have said, the decision was not made hastily. I have long felt that the relationship has not been good for my son, and this latest incident gave me opportunity to sever it. I expect Isa to do well from now on."

"But he already _has_ been doing well," Lea's teacher protested. "Let me tell all of you something - both boys are very intelligent, gifted, wonderful children. Much of the trouble they get into is _because_ they're so bright. They do have very different personalities, and I think this very much enhances their relationship."

"Lea's always had a mouth on him," his mother chuckled, "but good Lord, the things he says now, I should smack him but I keep just wanting to _laugh_, he didn't even know half those words before he met Isa..."

"Isa's such a lone wolf," his mother murmured, "it made me so happy to see him find a friend he likes and will play with."

"Isa does seem to be pretty introverted, while Lea is a natural extrovert. Lea attracts people like flies and makes friends easily, yet he's also always getting into fights, and I think he's had trouble strengthening all those connections. Isa is the only friend of his whom I've seen a good measure of consistency from. Isa seems to understand him and won't take offense like the other children do; even all the times they're arguing, they never abandon or ignore each other, and they'll spring to support each other the minute any external force seems to threaten one of them. They're both protective of each other, each in his own way."

Takahiro muttered something about Isa being unduly attached.

"I will say," spoke up Isa's new teacher, "that Isa doesn't seem to be thriving in my class... It's only been about a week, but still, he hasn't been forming relationships with any of the other children. He is well-behaved and does excellent work on his assignments, but he never seems _happy_ except at recess, where he can play with Lea. I didn't even know how verbally eloquent he could be until I heard the two of them arguing on the playground for ten minutes straight."

"They argued for ten minutes straight?" Lea father said in surprise.

"Yes, and very skillfully - we were standing there listening to the whole thing, and didn't want to interrupt because it was so entertaining. Then suddenly they went off together and somehow built an entire miniature fort in the last five minutes of recess, using wood chips, rocks, and a shoelace. It was impressive."

"They seem to have very complementary personalities, which I suspect is why they get along so well," said the counselor. "When one partner is methodical, patient, and detail-oriented, and the other is bold, self-assured, and thinks outside the box, they can accomplish quite a lot as a team. They're both also highly intelligent and creative. I'm sure that with the proper guidance, they can do great things for their community."

"You speak as if my son is deficient in some areas," Takahiro said stiffly.

"_Everyone_ has their unique, individual strengths and weaknesses. That's why good partnerships work so well. If both parties are micromanagers and take time to study the situation beforehand, they might not be able to make good split-second decisions or cope well with unexpected problems. If both are aggressive and focus on the main goal rather than smaller details, they might be inadequately prepared or miss important cues. No one can be perfect or good at everything, so it's wonderful when we are able to find someone who can make up for the areas in which we ourselves are lacking, and whom we can in turn strengthen with our own skills. I think that Lea and Isa embody this concept remarkably well."

"They get into so much trouble, though..."

"They _are_ still children. It's only to be expected, and it's the brighter ones who usually have more trouble. I think it's better to deal with it now than just avoid the problem. We want them to _learn_, not just be resentful."

In the end, it was decided that Isa would officially return to his former classroom, and that either he or Lea would be briefly sent to the new one if they misbehaved due to their relationship. Generally satisfied, the adults came out to find the boys sitting next to each other, laughing about something.

As soon as Isa saw them emerge, he went silent and moved several seats away, as if that would convince them that he hadn't been talking to Lea.

"I'm not gonna let you take my best friend away," Lea declared, planting himself in front of Isa protectively and also preventing him from moving again.

"You don't have to worry about that," Lea's mother said warmly.

"Huh?"

"Isa's coming back to your class," Mrs. Tsukino told him with a smile. "You or he will only be taken out for an hour or two if you misbehave, so please be good, all right?"

"So I don't have to ignore Lea anymore?" Isa said hopefully.

"No, dear, you don't."

"Hey! So you _were_ ignoring me?! When they went in the office, and at church, and when I went to your house?!"

"Yeah, stupid. I can't talk to you when we're in trouble, or we'll get into _more_ trouble."

"When did you come to the house?" Takahiro asked sharply.

Both boys froze. "Uh...a long time ago," Lea said.

"No, Father," Isa said miserably. "He came when I was grounded, and we talked."

"We _did not_ talk, Isa shut the window in my face and told me to get lost!"

Mrs. Tsukino smiled to see them defending each other, and hugged her son. "Isa's such a good boy, to do as he's told even when no one's watching. I'm proud of you, dear."

Though she was addressing Isa, she looked at her husband as she spoke, and he sighed dismissively. "I suppose it doesn't matter now."

"Would the three of you care to join us for lunch?" Mr. Hayes invited.

"Oooh! Say yes!" Lea insisted, and whooped when Isa's parents agreed.

o.o.o

Author's Notes: There was some stuff I was gonna try to clarify, but I'm too tired. **Basically, I wasn't trying to stereotype anyone or anything (specifically, Japan or Christianity). Isa's father being Japanese and both families attending church were COMPLETELY the result of story flow, it's not something I planned, and I wasn't trying to make a statement about anything. Nobody is perfect. Don't look at the examples in this fic and think I was using them to try to label/represent their entire groups, because I was not.**

(Btw, Isa's parents do love each other, they just do not see eye-to-eye about their son at _all_. *sweatdrop*)

Anyway...

I should start calling these "OCD fics"...this one here; _Raindrops & Whiskers_; a bunch of AkuShi stuff I never finished/posted; the first "untitled;" _BbF&ML: That Kind of Love_; another BbF&ML fic I haven't posted yet; etc. Sometimes when things bother me, I can't get them out of my head, and I've seen myself obsess over some things for months and months, more than a year in some cases. (Not continuously, but off and on whenever I'm not focused on something else.) It's like the thing that bothers me is trapped in my mind and can't get out because it keeps getting stuck in the "OCD gate," and I can't stop thinking about it until it's been fully processed. One of my major ways of processing stuff is to write, and writing about a bothersome topic until it's finally exorcised seems to help. I get to write that junk _my way_, instead of whatever way it was presented that Did Not Compute with me and upset me so much. After writing those stories, I stopped emotionally freaking about pedo pairings, yaoi, etc., and was able to just think about them normally again.

With this fic in particular... More than a year ago, I kept seeing this stupid collection of fanfics that I tried hard to avoid, but then, entirely by accident, I stumbled across a similar fic on devART, and then I couldn't help it; I went and skimmed through almost the entire collection in one sitting. It really disgusted me even though I couldn't tear myself away. Then came the obsessing off and on for more than a year, and then finally, earlier this summer, I very randomly started drafting a story (this one). It flowed _so well_, and I thought it would only brush the surface of that topic and stay within the limits of acceptability, but I quickly found that that was not going to happen, that I was pretty much writing the same kind of story that had so repulsed me all those months before. -.- **I guess this was my subconscious attempt, using my own writing style, to reshape that disturbing subject matter and try to get it "processed" out of my stupid brain. (Ftr, just like with real homosexuality and fandom yaoi, there is a huge disconnect between the topic as an objective real thing and the horrible gratuitous fetishistic way it was portrayed in those fanfics. [Also ftr, it was not written in a sexual context, as in between two consenting adults; it was flat-out abuse, sometimes even literal torture.] I don't mind it as a realistic topic, it was the gratuitous aspect that bothered me so much.)**

Unlike most of the other OCD fics, though, this second "untitled" is just _not publishable_ in its entirety...the first "untitled" could have made it unscathed into the light of day if I was both braver and more knowledgeable about the subject matter, but this one has about 450 words that I wouldn't allow _anyone_ to read, ever. -.- I had decided to not even post it at all, but my freaking stupid addictive beloved OTP...there was still AkuSai stuff in here I _liked_, tangled up with all the junk. *sigh* Just remember that, like I said at the beginning, this is way more like a journal entry than a story. I felt compelled to write it for the sake of my mental health, and I'm hoping I'll feel better now after "vomiting" this.


End file.
